Running Empty
by amokima
Summary: He woke, everyone is trying to kill him and he has no idea who they are or why.
1. Prelude

Running Empty by Amokima

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**Prelude**

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Sharp, gut wrenching agony shot all around his body, dragging him into awareness. He gasped at the agony racing through him. The pain was so great, he couldn't even think; his mind had totally shut down. His eyes opened in response to a nearby noise his mind was unable to connect to any stimulus. Sights and sounds were imprinted on his brain for future study, but for now…. for now he just was.

A number of men came into his line of sight, speaking words he couldn't comprehend. They stood around him making incomprehensible conversation for what could have been hours before they roughly hefted him landing him yet again in a state of unconsciousness. He became aware again as they were shoving him into a small space and slammed the lid shut. His new surroundings gave a shudder and started throwing him around until he passed out once more.

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The shock of hitting freezing cold water snapped him awake and suddenly he was drowning. He instinctively struggled, reaching for the surface, for the air his lungs now burned for. Breaking the surface, he was only able the gather one breath before his momentary resurgence of strength failed and he sank back into the cold blackness and lost himself in nothingness.

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He rose only halfway to awareness again and the distant sensations of being dragged. Nothingness constantly rising and falling, a pressure on his mouth forced in air and a pressure on his chest beat out a regular tattoo. Life was drawn back into the battered body as if reluctantly. Agony overwhelmed him once more and he willingly surrendered himself into blessed unconsciousness.

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A/N - thanks JT for the beta.  
Please, please, please give feed back. I'm just a little kid with low self esteem and nobody loves me and... ahh...


	2. Paranoia

Running Empty by Amokima 2/? 

Ch I: Paranoia

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All he knew was that everyone was trying to kill him.

Whenever he shared this morsal of information with anybody they called him crazy. They looked at him with disgust or pity, he didn't know which was worse, then turned away or laughed at him. A few of them shoved money at him. A couple of them patted him hand in a patronising manner, told him in was all in his head. He didn't know what to do, run away or just laugh with them. One cop even informed him that he obviously needed to get some "help" and attempted to drag him off to someplace where that could happen. He was just some crazy nutter they all wanted to get away as soon as possible.

So he quickly learned not to tell people, not to look for help since no one would believe him.

He knew it was true though. He knew it was true deep down in his bones. He couldn't just dismiss the evidence; he wished he could. He had been in nine different cities in seven months. And every new place he went they would eventually find him and try to kill him. And they nearly succeeded more times than he'd like to admit. They had open methods and silent methods. They had varied methods, silent assassins creeping around in the shadows with a garrotte or a knife, sometimes just being bold and shooting at him with a .9 mm. Ganging up on him, trying to beat him to death. Blowing up a place he had found to stay. One time, the cops had hauled him in. Apparently his face was on one of those "Wanted" posters. They hauled him into the station, locked him in a bare room and three hours of lonely boredom later, official looking people showed up and dragged him off while whispering in his ear the painfully slow was they were going to kill him for giving them all so much trouble.

Somehow he had always been able to get away alive. Hardly ever unscathed, but at least alive. Lately he'd been able to see them coming before they saw him, so more often than not he can avoid them. But they still kept coming.

That was how he knew everyone was trying to kill him.

Oh, he knew it wasn't REALLY everyone. But the trouble was that he didn't know who they were. There were some faces he recognised from previous attempts, but most were people he'd never seen before. Because a lot of them were strangers, it meant that everyone he met could potentially be a future foe.

And so he was constantly on alert, constantly wary, not able to trust anyone. Always on his guard, looking over his shoulder, getting more paranoid by the day.

He was not only exhausted from all this, he was also confused as hell. Because not only did he not know who was after him, but he also had absolutely no clue to the reason why they all wanted him dead.

He was exhausted, confused and terrified.

And to top it all off, he had absolutely not idea who the fucking hell he was.

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A/N thanx again to JT for beta-ing.  
Let me know what you think.


	3. Waking Up

Running Empty by Amokima 

a/n revised

Ch II: Waking Up

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He'd woken up in the hospital seven and a half months ago with only a few vague memories of anything that had happened before that point. Those memories had seemed to be the events that lead up to him being damaged in the hospital.

The first thing he had remembered was being in a fire fight, alone, against a handful of others wanting him dead.

The second memory he had was waking up in a painful agony. Those same people threw him into the boot of a car.

In the third memory he was drowning in a river. He figured they must have dumped him in the river to get rid of his body. Luck him. Apparently, a couple whose evening out included a romantic interlude on the shore of the river had spotted him struggling. She had called 911 while he had swum out, rescued and performed CPR.

The doctors told him that it was a miracle he wasn't dead or have brain damage. He had been shot eleven times. Twice in his right shoulder, once in his left upper arm, three times in his left thigh, twice in his chest, twice in his stomach and once in his head. And none of these shots had hit any major organs or arteries. They had worked on him for six and a half hours in surgery, extracting the eight bullets that were still in his body. Twice they had trouble stopping excessive bleeding. Four times he'd flat lined.

He'd stayed in a coma for three days. In truth, nobody had believed he would ever wake up again. The chance they had had given him was only 23 percent. Waking up without brain damage they'd put at 17 percent. Therefore, no one was surprised to find out he had amnesia, just at the fact that it was the only thing wrong with him. It sucked. Amnesia was such a damn cliche. And what had annoyed him further, what had made the cliche so much worse, was that the shoot out from his memory had taken place in a damn abandoned warehouse.


	4. Running

Running Empty by Amokima 4/? 

a/n revised

Ch III Running

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He'd stayed at the hospital for two weeks. Two weeks wasn't nearly enough time to recover from being shot eleven times. It would have been better if he could have stayed longer, but unfortunately, in the end, he wasn't given a choice.

The ones who'd shot him had came back for him.

How they'd found out he wasn't dead like they thought, he had no idea. But they came.

There were only two of them and they came walking in at a time when no one else was in the room. At first he couldn't place their faces. He had only just woken up a few minutes ago and was still half asleep. As one of the men picked up a pillow from the chair next to his bed, he suddenly remembered them from the shootout. Before he could do or say anything, the one with the pillow and had pushed it down on his face and the other held him down to stop him from struggling.

The moment before he passed out and everything went black, he felt the pillow and men pulled from him.

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He'd woken up half an hour later, the nurse who liked to visit and talk with him sitting in the chair at his bedside. When he was properly wide awake she related to him what had happened.

She had been coming to check on him, to find out if he needed anything. When she had entered the room and saw what was taking place, she'd started yelling and the two hefty orderlies who had just come out of the next room came rushing through the door in time to pull them off her patient. Blows were traded, the orderlies prevailed and the two assailants were left groaning on the floor.

Meanwhile, a doctor had shown up demanding answers. Everyone began talking, then shouting at the same time until the nurse yelled at them all to shut up and not disturb her patient. She had then proceeded to order the doctor and orderlies to 'remove yourselves from the room and take the murdering bastards with you while I make sure the poor lad is all right.'

Once out in the corridor, the orderlies notified the doctor what had happened. The two men then pulled out badges, demanding the orderlies to unhand them, that they were interfering with official FBI business and would all be arrested for obstructing justice. The hospital staff weren't having a bar of it and the whole situation quickly deteriorated into another scuffle, which ended with the two men getting free and escaping.

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There was silence for a while after the nurse had finished her tale. He was having difficulty taking in all that she had told him. Part of what she'd said at the end had also caused him to recall something from one of his memories.

At the warehouse, all the people shooting at him, they had all been wearing identical navy blue jackets emblazoned with large yellow letters. FBI.

Shit.

He was starting to get confused and more than a bit panicky. Did this now mean that he was a bad guy and the FBI was after him? But if that was really the case, why would the need to dump his body in a river where nobody was likely to find it or smother him with a pillow while he was laid up in the hospital instead of just arresting him? Were they really the FBI or were they counterfeit feds.

He was getting scared. They'd tried to kill him twice now. What was to stop them coming back and trying again? They knew right where he was.

He'd decided right then that he was leaving the hospital that night, whether he was ready for it or not. He wasn't going to stick around and wait for them to come after him again.

After waiting a few hours, he'd gotten changed into the clothes the nurse had brought for him a few days ago. He'd had nothing and she'd felt sorry for him. So she'd gifted him with a bag full of goodies to cheer him up. Inside the backpack she'd handed to him he'd found a pair of jeans, new underwear and socks, a few t-shirts, a sweater, a pair of sneakers, toiletries, a book, a pack of cards and a stash of snacks.

After getting changed, he had read his chart to find out what prescriptions he was meant to be taking. He cursed to himself when he found it was all gobbledy-gook to him. Well, he'd just have to wing it. Checking that no one was outside, he'd left his room and went in search of a supply room. Earlier he'd lifted his nurse's keys, so he'd have no trouble getting in. The second one he'd found had what he needed. He grabbed as much antibiotics, pain meds (not as strong as he'd been taking up to now though, he couldn't afford to be all doped up), bandages as he could as well as anything else that looked as if it could be useful. He also found some doctor's scrubs and changed into a set. He added the surgical bandanna to the mix to hide his head wound and the patch of hair they'd had to shave. He paused then dropped a handful of scalpels into the pack as well. He would need something with which to defend himself.

Praying no one had noticed him gone from his bed yet, he left the supply room and walked confidently, as if he belonged there, towards the nearest exit and out into the night.


	5. Confusion & Terror

Running Empty by Amokima 5/? 

Ch. IV: Confusion & Terror

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He'd been running and hiding ever since he left the hospital. Every time he went some place new they'd find out where he was again. Sometimes it was the FBI agents and sometimes it was the others. He wasn't sure who the other people were. Some of the same faces kept popping up. Others were new every time. Probably just hired thugs picked up from where ever the others found themselves. He thought some of them might be Mafia or something. But at the same time he didn't really think that was quite right. The Mob part didn't really fit what he was seeing. The looked more like┘ yeah, that sounds more like it. Russian Mafia. Somehow he knew that was right

But how could he know that? How would he know the difference between Sicilian and Russian Mafias, especially from just having them chase him around a few times? How? Why?

He was getting seriously confused and bewildered by it all. He couldn't figure out if he was a good guy or a bad guy being pursued and hunted by all bad guys or by both bad and good guys. All he knew was that he was being kept on the edge and on the run and everything just kept getting worse and worse as time went on and someday soon he might snap and break in pieces with who knows what result.

Everything was getting all jumbled up and amplified within him. He was highly confused because he had no idea why these things were happening to him. Not knowing even his own identity had made the whole experience of being lost, uncertain and ungrounded, like he could fall away at any moment and not be found or be able to find himself again. He often felt as if he kept spinning around and around in circles and even when he threw up from the dizziness, it. Just. Never. Stopped.

He was constantly watchful, forcing himself to stay wary and distrustful because he never knew where the next knife or bullet would come from. And because he could never trust, never let himself get to know anyone and never had anyone, he was so, so lonely. More often than not the loneliness ached so badly that he couldn't move, couldn't do anything except curl himself into a ball and cry and cry and cry until the rest of the world just dissolved away.

His terror kept growing and overwhelming him and he often honestly wondered why he didn't just let them end it for him. He was just so bone wearily exhausted by it all.

But something small and almost unheard deep within him kept nudging him not to give up.


	6. Survival

Running Empty by Amokima 6/? 

Ch V - Survival

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Except for the part about dodging evil, murderous fiends, he found the actual surviving part surprisingly easy. Early on he had a knack for being watchful without others noticing, of seeing details that were difficult to discern, of being able to blend into the crowd to the point where he may as well have been invisible. He discovered that he could use that to his advantage

It was a week after he'd escaped from the hospital. He hadn't eaten in a few days and his stomach was resentfully letting him know it. He was bored; idling along the isles of a market he'd stumbled across, browsing through the stalls. He was slowly following along with the crowd passing a vegetable stall, right at the edge of the flow, brushing against the tables. He didn't really stop to think about it. He observed that the marketeer was busy with another customer and it was like his hand moved of its own volition. It moved discreetly but quickly and before he knew it there was a tomato sitting in his pocket. Then he'd been swept away with the throng and nobody else was the wiser. Frankly, he'd been a little shocked. At both the fact that he'd done it and also that he'd actually gotten away with it. It was like he knew what to do without knowing what to do. He must have done this before; lots of times for his body to be able to react automatically like that. Like a sort of residual muscle memory from his life before the shooting.

He discovered he also had the same talent as a pickpocket when he'd stolen the keys from his nurse.

So he found himself able to survive. He stole food when he couldn't get enough money from picking pockets. He picked pockets and bought food and other necessities when he wasn't able to shoplift. And he found himself yet again wondering how it was that he knew how to do this kind of stuff

His ability to steal came in handy when it was time for him to move on, to relocate himself to a different city away from those hunting him. He could by a bus or train ticket or hitchhike and help pay for fuel.

He had to be careful here though. Even though he gave a false name (ha, false! How could it not be false?) when they wanted one, there were still cameras around. The people after him could be watching the cameras, watching the stations and depots ready to catch him. So he blends into the crowds and if they do realize he'd been there, then it's long after he's left.

Hitchhiking carried with it its own brand of problems. You never know what kind of creep will pick you up. He'd heard some horror stories from people about psychopaths, rapist and serial killers. They made him not want to travel in this fashion, but unfortunately he had to get to his next destination somehow. So he kept the knife he'd managed to flog at that first market hidden up his sleeve for entire trips, ready to defend himself.

He managed to only have one bad incident while hitchhiking. He was exhausted and he'd dozed off about half an hour into the trip, waking up to find the other man's hand feeling up his thigh, creeping closer and closer to regions which should remain private. He gave a startled yelp, brought his knife out of hiding and screamed at the driver to 'get your fucking hands off me you fucking sadistic fucking pervert or I'll cut your fucking balls off! Pull the fuck over now or I swear I'll fucking kill you!'

The driver saw that he meant every word he said and pulled over off the road, pissing himself as he did so, let him out and quickly drove off.

He soon found another lift bet he stayed wary and suspicious for the rest of the journey.

Another survival trick, though he never really thought about it in those terms, was always changing his name. It wasn't hard. It wasn't like he had a real name anyway. He never bothered to try and remember what name he was going by at any given moment, so anytime anybody asked for one he just gave him or her the first name that popped into his head. At the back of his mind, there was also a half formed notion that if the people who wanted to kill him didn't know what name he was going by then it would be just that much harder to find him.

He also found he could fight like a son of a bitch. Knife fighting, some of that karate type fighting and some of the lowest, dirtiest type of fighting. He got into a lot of fights and won most of them.

He used all these survival tricks as well as some others he only remembered instinctively. For seven long desperate, despairing, lonely months he managed to survive due to these tricks and that small almost unheard whisper coming through all the darkness inside, telling him to hold on.

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a/n please R&R ta


	7. Good Things

Running Empty by Amokima 7/? 

Ch.VI - Good Things

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There were a few good things in his life during this time. The children were good things. There were a lot of kids around every new place he went. Lost waifs kind of like him, living on the streets in whatever free space they could find, nowhere to go, no proper home or family.

With the kids, he could ease down those walls of wariness, walls of distrust. Well sure, he wouldn't trust them not to nick all his stuff the moment his back was turned, but he knew none of the younglings were after his life

So whenever he could, whenever they'd let him, he would help them, play with them, teach them things, give them the kind of attention they craved. Any spare food or money he gave to them, often going hungry himself. He let them have blankets he, ahem, found. Played chase and tag with them, played with sticks or old balls or papers or rocks, whatever was fun. He taught them what he knew about survival; pick pocketing and stealing, the best ways to fight and defend yourself, how to find good hiding spots, both for yourself and so no one can pinch your belongings. He gave them all the positive attention he could; he listened to them if they wanted to talk, laughed at their jokes, praised them for every little thing the achieved or found, he gave them hugs if he knew they would accept it, played with, fought for, and was just there for as long as he was able to be.

He loved watching their faces light up when they were having fun or learnt something new.

And he hates those that tried to hurt them.

He tried to protect the kids from any bad people, from anyone who wanted to hurt them or take advantage of them. He glared and threatened and fought for their sakes. If anyone hurt his kids then he hurt them back. He only regretted that he couldn't do more, couldn't protect them when he had to leave.

Another good thing. There was an old man who sat in the park every afternoon, feeding the ducks on the lake, telling old war stories to the ducks and anyone else who cared to listen.

For two and a half weeks, until he had to move on again, he loved to sit there in the park with the old man; sit on the bench by the lake under the big oak tree and just listen and soak in all the tales the old man would tell while helping him feed his ducks. Sometimes he would ask lots of questions and try to garner all the details he could. Other times he'd just sit and listen with a silence he seemed unable to break. A few times the old man would him questions and he regretted bitterly that he had no answers, no tales of his own to tell in exchange. He explained, one time, why he had no tales of his own to bring. The old man just nodded like one of those wise, old mystic sages and told him it was alright, that he had the opportunity to make new tales of his life.

Yes, he loved his afternoons with the old man in the park.

Good things. Good memories to build into new tales. Tales he might tell himself when he has his own park with ducks on the pond and someone to listen.

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ya like?


	8. Memories A

Running Empty

Memories A

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At first, the only things he was able to remember were the things that were with him when he first woke up in the hospital, of being shot and dumped in the river. He tried desperately to remember anything at all but nothing ever came to him. He needed something that would help him understand and cope with the situation he had been dumped head first into. Anything at all. Please! But he couldn't make himself remember.

A month and a half after the hospital, a guy got close to him with a gun. He stood only a few feet away pointing it at his chest, a smug, gloating expression on the bastard's face. Fear flashed through him as he knew he wouldn't be able to dodge this shot. But as he stood there frozen, the gunman taking his time to savour the moment, something flashed in his brain and before he knew what he was doing, he had struck out cobra quick with his hands and somehow the gun had ended up in his own grasp pointed back at his assailant.

Both of them blinked in shock at each other for a moment. Quickly he realized he know had the advantage here. He was about to say something to the other man about leaving him alone now, when the guy leapt at him to recover his gun. Without thought, he pulled the trigger and shot his attacker twice in the heart.

Shocked at what his body had done, he instinctively ran, his mind shutting down trying to deal with what had just happened.

When he came back to himself he looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He eventually got his sluggish brain working and recognised the land marks. He was halfway across the city from where he started from and he had obviously lost several hours as it was starting to get dark. He looked down and saw he still had the gun. Shit. Gazing around, wondering what to do with the weapon, he suddenly realised something was different. He considered this for a moment before discerning what was new.

He'd found a memory!

He watched as it unfolded in front of his eyes...

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_He was standing beside another man about his own age, a little girl between them. In front of the trio was a man aiming a gun at them. He was agitated and looked like he needed a fix._

_He uttered something about them to hand over all their money and valuables. The man was getting more and more nervous the longer it took them to remove all their things. He suddenly realized the man was about to shoot so he tried to go after the gun with a snatch manoeuvre. But it was too late. Two shots rang out before he reached the gun and seize it._

_One had hit his arm and the other..._

_He turned around and saw the little girl covered in blood, lying in the other man's arms and knew she was dead. He fell to his knees hearing this awful heart rendering scream and realized it came from himself, calling out her name._

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He came out of the memory and found he had fallen on his ass and was violently trembling at the strength of what he'd seen. HOLY FUCK. He could tell, just by the emotions that had been evoked in him by this memory that he'd been close to this girl. He could still hear the name Ellie shrieking painfully around his skull.

It took him half an hour before he was able to think clearly.

Apart from the strong feelings towards the girl, he didn't recognise anyone in the memory. He automatically dismissed the junky and looked at the other man. He was tall, thin with black hair. He supposed that he knew him, but he had no idea whether he has friend, family or something else.

He looked at the girl, again felt a wrench at his heart. She was small, freckles sprinkled generously across her cheeks and pert little nose, flaming red hair in pigtails and a green and blue sundress. She could be his, she could be the other guys', they could have been babysitting her for someone else entirely. It was frustrating.

He watched the whole scene again, deliberately distancing himself. As he watched, he thought he could identify what had triggered this memory. I was either the gun, the disarming manoeuvre, when the gun discharged or a combination of all three. Although the situation this afternoon was the same, it was similar enough to bring forth this nugget of himself and it gave him hope that he could eventually recover all of him.

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a/n - ta to JT for the beta

please R & R!


	9. Memories B

Memories B

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Three weeks later he was at the park, sitting on the ground, leaning against the bench. There was bread in his hand; he was breaking it up and throwing pieces to the ducks, watching them try and catch the bits on the fly. He was listening to the old man telling him a tale about his twin daughters when the were four years old and the schemes they came up with in order to go to war with their daddy and not be left behind at home. They actually managed to stow away on the aircraft carrier he was traveling on and weren't discovered until the carrier was an hour and a half out of port when they got bored and decided to go and find daddy and get him to play with them.

He was in a quiet mood today. He just sat and listened and chuckled in a few places, but mostly he just smiled wistfully, wondering if the little girl he saw in his memory would have gotten into mischief like that.

A loud noise drew his attention away. A mother was yelling at her son for some misdeed and gave the boy a smack.

He flinched sharply as another memory quickly overtook him.

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_He was a small thing, young._

_A woman had a hard grip on his arm, hard enough to really hurt and leave a mark. It was his mother. She was yelling furiously at him; about what, he wasn't all that sure, her screams at him had passed a while ago into incoherency. When his mother drank, anything could set her off._

_His arm was really hurting, he was scared and he wished someone would come in and stop her and take him away from her. But he knew that was a pointless hope. No one ever stopped her._

_She slapped his cheek. It stung and tears tried to form in his eyes but he refused to let them come, knowing they wouldn't do him any good and would only make things worse._

_She saw them anyway, shrieked at him even louder. His mother then picked up an old hardwood and copper walking cane and proceeded to beat him into unconsciousness._

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He gasped and shuddered and folded in on himself, convulsively trying not to throw up. He felt tears streaming down his face uncontrollably but couldn't stop crying.

The old man was concerned for him. He rubbed the younger man's shoulder, knowing that something bad had just occurred.

It took him a while before he was able to collect himself and apologize. The old man just gave him a sad smile. He told him that he'd just gotten a memory back and then, because the old man had shared so many tales with him and owed a tale in return, he proceeded to tell him what happened.

The old man just sat there and listened. At the end of the telling, they grey head was bowed low. He raised his head back up and looked the younger man in the eyes for a minute or so and then nodded gravely. He stayed silent. After all, what can you really say that would help after a tale like that?

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a/n ta 4 de beta JT


	10. Memories C

Memories C

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It was two months before he regained another piece of his past. Unlike the previous two times, this memory wasn't a waking flashback triggered by something he'd seen. This memory came to him in his sleep, and he instantly knew it was a real memory and not just a nightmare.

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_He was hanging in chains against a brick wall. Everything was grotty, slimy and it stank. He was hurting everywhere from a beating he'd just received courtesy of a crowbar. They'd striped him, tipped a bucket of water over his head and were now proceeding to torture him with a car battery and jumper cables._

_The electric shock passed through his body, frying him. Again and again they tormented him, demanding he tell them where he'd hidden the traitor. Over and over they demanded answers and over and over he refused to give them anything. And over and over they electrocuted him._

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He woke up screaming and sweating profusely. Thank goodness he'd found a place to crash that was far away from anyone else. Abandoned office space is good for something.

DAMN!! FUCKING HELL!! That was a damn memory. He'd been tortured! Fuck. That wasn't pleasant at all.

Well, that was a memory it wouldn't do to dwell on. He got up and decided to go for a walk to try and clear the new images from his head. No way would he be able to get back to sleep now. He was starting to get a little wary about memories.

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a/n ta JT


	11. Memories D

Memories D

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This time around only a week went by until the next memory made itself known.

He was at the beach, out of sight from anyone else. Not hiding exactly, more like taking shelter in a ruined abandoned shack. He was just sitting there against a wall, staring out at the water, just thinking of nothing. He was getting really sick and tired of the running and people trying to kill him for unknown reasons. Maybe it was just a game for them. Maybe a whole bunch of trigger happy, hunting freaks got bored and wanted a different challenge to hunting wild boar or whatever. Let's pick some guy and hunt him down 'til one of us comes back with his scalp!

He snorted. Yeah. That's right. It's all just one massive, sicko, fucking game.

And while staring despondently over the water, a movie started playing in front of his eyes.

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_He stood there staring at her, his body shifting back and forth between the extremes of total numbness and unbearable agony as his heart shattered in the most painful way it could._

_She stood there and laughed at him. Laughed and made a mockery of him in front of everyone. Laughed at how much he loved her, sneered at how much he had thought she loved him. She threw at his face, and with obvious cruel enjoyment, announced to the entire room that the only reason she'd agreed to marry him, hell, the only reason she even gave him a second look three years ago, was because of his dear old dad's fabulous fortune. And she'd only just now figured out that he had been telling her the truth when he had said that his dad had cut him off._

_She called him cruel, hurtful names and as a final parting shot, as she turned her back on him and walked away, she told him she's been seeing his best friend from the basketball team for the last year and a half and they were eloping this weekend. Said friend stood up gloating and smirking at him, before following her out while his whole world crashed around him._

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Shee-yit!! These things just keep getting worse! Just what kind of sad, sorry, inept loser was he that these things kept happening to him?

He tried to make sense of what he just saw. Going by what she'd said, in front of a whole room of people to top it off, apparently she had started dating him because his dad was rich, no other reason. He'd fallen in love with her, they'd gotten engaged and the only reason she'd stayed around was because she thought she'd end up livin' it large. Once she actually started believing him when he told her they wouldn't be getting anything from daddy dearest, she dropped him like so much filth and made off with his best friend, both of them going behind his back and laughing at him.

What kind of person did those kinds of thing to another? How the hell had that guy been his best friend?

He decided he didn't want anymore of his memories back. All he'd gotten so far was pain and suffering. He didn't think he could stand much more of it.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

a/n ta JT 4 beta


	12. Memories E

Memories E

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A month later he'd fallen asleep in the car that picked him up hitchhiking.

When he'd first hopped in the car, the driver told him he usually didn't pick up hitchhikers and wasn't going to stop for him either. But then he thought that a murderer would at least try and make himself look presentable so people would pick him up. According to that logic, since he was so scruffy and destitute looking, that meant he wasn't a murderer so it was ok to stop and pick him up.

He blinked and pondered on this for a few minutes, then agreed that that reasoning did actually have some twisted sort of sense to it.

He sat there listening while the old black guy chattered to him. There was silence sometimes too, but it was always a comfortable, easy silence. In fact, the driver reminded him a lot of the old man at the park. He liked him. So when the driver asked a few questions about him he found himself telling the man the whole story. The man was silent for a while, then commented that he sure did have himself in a pickle alright. He sighed, agreeing.

He fell asleep in the silence that followed and dreamt of another memory.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_He was standing in the foyer, a bag on the ground beside him. He was a kid again. There was a man in front of him, looking down his nose in disdain at whet he saw standing there. He had to tip his head back to look up at him. The man was saying how much of a disappointment the boy was and that he'd never amount to anything. He and his mother were sick of having him around. In short, they were cutting him off, kicking him out, and they never wanted to hear from him again._

_He nodded in understanding. Also with a small amount of relief. He didn't like living in this house with them either. But still..._

_He picked up his pack and walked to the front door. He opened it and stepped outside. As soon as he was on the opposite side of the threshold, the man slammed the door shut with a finality that deafened._

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

He jerked awake, trying to catch his breath. He felt the old guy's attention of him even though his eyes were on the road. He could hear the question the other man wanted to ask and decided to answer it. He told him about what he'd dreamed.

The old man seemed to struggle with this new information. He was finding it hard to believe that anyone could treat their child like that.

He told him that it was ok, that he was having trouble with it himself.

Although, no that he thought about it, it would help explain a few things that had been puzzling him. If he had been tossed out of home that young and had no where to go, he would most likely have become a homeless street kid. That must be how he had learnt all those pick pocketing and surviving-on-the-street skills, and likely a whole lot more things he just hadn't remembered yet.

He found he had gained a satisfied feeling of a mystery solved. He thought he quite liked that feeling and focused on that instead of the negative that the memory could dredge up.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

a/n ta JT a beta


	13. Memories F

It was about six months since he'd left the hospital, not that he was in any position to mark time as it passed by. All he knew was that he was beyond tired of everything. Let them find him. He found he just couldn't care anymore. Just get it over with already. He was exhausted physically, mentally and spiritually. Tired of being on the run. Tired of people trying to kill him, constantly looking over his shoulder, fighting for his life. Tired of not knowing anything about himself apart from a few scattered horrific memories. Tired of not being able to trust, to make friends, tired of being lonely. And just tired of being tired. 

He found he couldn't dredge up enough energy to get out of the bed in the homeless shelter he'd slept at last night.

The people in charge of the place soon came around to make him get out of bed, but in the end he was just too exhausted to be moved from where he was. The grandmotherly woman who seemed to boss everyone else around just clucked sympathetically at him and told the others to leave the poor boy alone for now, what he needed most was rest and a good feeding up.

He sighed gratefully as he closed his eyes and lost himself in sleep.

He dreamed again, but for once, his dreams held only good memories.

-----------------

He was sprawled on a couch, feet up on the coffee table, watching a movie. A girl was stretched out next to him. There were two bowls of popcorn wedged between them for easy reach. One contained buttered popcorn, the other, sticky caramel popcorn.

They slumped there in comfortable silence, the closing credits starting to roll. Neither felt the need to talk, they both knew each other too well. He felt safe enough to just relax and be himself. To not have to try so hard to impress. She knew him better that anybody did.

He stretched and shuffled himself deeper into the couch. He closed his eyes and was content to just be, to drift there, warmly cocooned in the feeling of safety.

-----------------

He didn't wake up quickly like he usually did. He floated somewhere between sleep and awake, content to stay in the sense of safety that followed him out of the dream. He'd never felt anything so nice and warm. He wanted to stay in that place for as long as he could.

He thought about the girl he'd seen. She was strange. She was all in black; black hair, black ripped pants, black top with a picture of a dead dog. She wore a studded collar around her neck and studded wrist cuffs. He recognised her outfit as goth. She looked strange but she looked right. The girl was probably a bit younger than him and he knew she was someone he trusted implicitly. He had the feeling he talked to her about everything and was safe with her. He thought it might have been a brother/sister relationship rather than a romantic one. He wished he knew her name.

He was so relieved that he had finally recovered a good memory, he almost started crying. He revelled in the emotions it generated in him and he daydreamed of the things he and the girl might do together; the fun they would have and the mischief and trouble they might get into. These thoughts bolstered him and convinced him not to give up.

-----------------

a/n thanx for being patient and thanx to super-em for beta

please read & review!


	14. Memories G

Three weeks later a memory got beaten out of him. Three bully boys had caught up with him and he was now being wailed on in the rain. He was giving back as good as he got but there were more of them than there was of him and they were winning.

Bits of memory started flashing at him but he couldn't afford to be distracted right now, so he pushed them aside and ignored them.

He got in a good solid punch and one of his assailants went down and didn't get back up. Now it was just two against one. Better odds but he was beginning to tire. He pulled his flagging strength together and fought on, hoping for an opportunity to escape

After trading blows for a few more minutes, a small opening soon appeared. He managed to get his two remaining opponents tangled together and a second later he was running full pelt with the two up and after him. He pulled out of the oh-so-clichИd dark alley, entered the sea of pedestrians and was soon lost in the crowd.

It was some time before he was able to find a safe place to hole up. As he was catching his breath, his attention was dragged back to the flashes of memory that had appeared at the most inconvenient of times.

------------------

It was night time and raining. He was in the middle of the bush, surrounded by a dozen guys all dressed in fatigues who were all taking turns to beat the living crap out of him. He was down on the ground, lying in the mud, kicks and blows striking him from all directions.

Lightning flashed and he could see them grinning with cruel enjoyment at his pain.

------------------

He closed his eyes and groaned. He so didn't need this. He didn't want to remember the awful things that kept coming back to him. He was sick and tired of all the pain and suffering his life and mind were shoving at him. Frustrated tears trickled down his face before he could stop them, stinging where they encountered fresh wounds from his most recent scrap.

Ineffectively wiping his face with his rain soaked sleeve, he curled up into the corner of his little nook and fell into a restless sleep.

------------------

a/n tanx supre-em 4 beta

let me know if this sucks or rocks


	15. Memories H

He was just so tired of it all. He kept wanting to lie down and give it all up; let them come and find him. But every time he almost made that decision, the girl he'd seen in his mind would whisper to him and urge him to not give up, to keep fighting. 

He yearned to know who she was, was desperate to find her. Even just her name. Ever since he had remembered her five weeks ago, he found himself talking to her in his mind whenever he was lonely or scared or felt like breaking down in tears.

He felt so desperate and despondent, a pressure building up in his chest that demanded a screaming release.

He slammed his fist into a brick wall instead.

The pain that burst out in his almost went unnoticed in the relief of release through violence. As if waiting for a moment just like this one, anther memory was freed.

--------------------

He'd had a bastard of a day. He was angry. He was also frustrated to tears. He picked up his mobile; he needed to talk to someone who would actually listen to him and wouldn't brush him off or ridicule him (all in the name of joking around with him of course.) He dialled his mobile and it rang a few times before she picked up.

He grinned at her usual greeting and responded accordingly.

--------------------

He froze, stunned. He mouth moved but no sound emerged. He watched the scene again to confirm it. His knees became weak and he slid down the wall to the ground, so overwhelmed he was crying.

The girl.

He had a name and he had a phone number.

It was early evening before he could get up again. His legs had refused to hold him. When he was able to stand and stop the tears, he immediately went to the nearest shop and exchanged all the cash he found in his pockets for change for the public phone.

Getting directions to the nearest phone box, he rushed off, excitement and nervousness bubbling uncontrollably inside him.

Reaching the phone, he poured a stack of coins into the slot and dialled the phone number from his memory with shaky fingers.

The familiar voice at the other end picked up with the same response.

"Hey, you got me, so you know you want me."

With a trembling voice he answered her.

"Abby."

--------------------

a/n ta y'all who keep up with this & ta 2 super-em


	16. Missing

SEVEN MONTHS AGO

The elevator door slid open and FBI Agent Fornell strode out into the NCIS bullpen. The team watched covertly as he came over and stopped in front of Gibbs' desk.

Gibbs raised his eyes from the report he was reading to glare at Fornell, raising one eyebrow as if to demand answers.

"Conference room. Now."

Gibbs glared at Fornell for a few more moments, stood up, then walked back to the elevators with the other man. As the doors closed behind the pair, Kate and McGee looked at each other, then turned their eyes back to the lift.

The elevator stared to move but shut down when Gibbs pressed the emergency stop button and stared at Fornell. Fornell stayed silent, staring at the closed doors in front of him with a frown on his face. After a minute of increasingly frustrating silence, Gibbs grew even more impatient.

"Tobias?"

"Jethro."

Gibbs paused at the tone of voice coming from Fornell. "What's wrong?"

Fornell look intently down at his shoes, sighed, and then turned his gaze back to Gibbs.

"Jethro." He stopped and took a deep breath. "We've lost him."

Gibbs blinked. After a pause he demanded, "How?"

"I'm not sure."

A glare. "When?"

"Around three weeks ago."

"THREE WEEKS AGO!?!?" The shout echoed around the enclosed space. "Dammit Tobias. Tony DiNozzo is my agent. And you're only telling me this now?"

"Jethro, I only found out myself this morning. I came straight here as soon as I was able to chase up some information about what happened."

"So what did happen? And how could you not know? You were the one that borrowed him."

"He was undercover. I wasn't his handler. Agent Rudderford was. Apparently, when DiNozzo missed his scheduled contact with her she knew it wasn't because he was just running late. I was at my daughter's school play. She knew this and didn't want to interrupt it so she contacted the FBI Director instead, who was secondary contact if she couldn't get a hold of me. He told her not to bother me with it, that it was probably just one missed contact and he would turn up for the next one. He said that DiNozzo was a reasonable undercover agent but had the reputation of being irresponsible and sometimes not turning up for contacts.

"Yeah, I know, I know," he quickly interjected when Gibbs opened his mouth to argue with him. "That's not true of DiNozzo. But that's what the director told Rudderford.

"He told her that I was busy with other cases at the moment and didn't need to be disturbed with this until something concrete was known. She wasn't quite sure about that, but he is the Director.

"So she stayed in her position and waited a few days for the next contact time. DiNozzo was a no show again. Rudderford called the Director like he'd told her to. He told her I was swamped with a situation here in D.C. and that he would handle it from now on. The director ordered her to stay in the field just in case DiNozzo showed up and tried to contact her, and the Director would let her know what was happening about it from our end.

"Meanwhile, the Director was piling more and more work on me here. He told me he'd assigned the operation off to someone else and kept me too busy to check in on it.

"A week ago Rudderford's motel room was blown up. Luckily she'd left the room a few minutes earlier to get some dinner from across the road. She made her way quietly back to D.C, staying under the radar and she came over to my house as soon as she arrived here this morning. The only ones who knew where she was and why were myself and the Director, and she wasn't sure she could trust him anymore."

Gibbs scowled at Fornell. "You said you needed Tony because there were no FBI agents available that you trusted to be able to pull off this kind of undercover operation. That he was supposed to discover who was selling dangerous top-secret information to terrorists. Now it sounds like you're saying it could be the director of the FBI? Did you really want Tony because there was no one to do the job or did you just not trust anyone in your agency? You neglected to mention this Tobias."

"I thought it might be a possibility that it was someone high up in the agency. There was also the same possibility it was a person or people from other agencies. But I never even thought of Director Peterson."

"Hmph."

⌠Rudderford told me this morning that during their last contact, DiNozzo said he thought that a few of the people involved were FBI and that one of them, maybe even more, were highly placed. He said he was going to try and get evidence of this as well as the information being sold. That was the last time she spoke to him. Over three weeks ago. Rudderford would have tried to find him, except she was supposed to be laying low herself and the Director said he'd handle it. He ordered her to stay put.

"She said she didn't suspect him at first, only that she felt that something was slightly not quite right. That feeling grew over the past three weeks and once I told her my side of things, well, now we both have strong suspicions about our dear Director. But without this evidence DiNozzo mentioned we can't do anything about it."

"This is not good Tobias."

"Tell me about it. To make matters worse, DiNozzo said there might be more than one highly ranked FBI traitor. Who knows who they could be? Conceivably they could even be higher up the food chain than Peterson, so we can't inform any of our other superiors about our suspicions. The only thing we can do is search for DiNozzo and hope we find him alive."

"I want that search handed over to my team Tobias, we can't..."

"Oh, you can have it. There's no way I'd be able to do the job on my own. Rudderford will have to disappear for now and I have know idea who I can trust this with in the agency. I came over specifically to let you know what's happened and to give you the search. I'll help every way I can." Fornell pulled a flash disk from his pocket and handed it to Gibbs. "Here. After I talked with Rudderford I went to the office. On that disk you'll find copies of every piece of information we have about the operation and anything else I could find even remotely connected. I didn't think it would be wise to bring the original files."

"Thanks."

Fornell nodded and pressed the emergency stop button to restart the elevator. "I'd better get back. Keep me informed Jethro. Good luck."

--------------------------

a/n oooh! a long one. wow. ta all


	17. Searching

Searching

-----------------------

Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered in Abby's lab, waiting for Gibbs to arrive. Abby slurped on her Caff-Pow before turning to the others with a curious look on her face.

"Why did Gibbs want us all to meet here? We don't have a case at the moment do we? 'Cause I don't have any results for him. He hasn't given me anything yet."

McGee shook his head. "Uh, no. We, we don't have a case yet. Gibbs didn't tell us why he wanted to talk to us all here."

"Oh, no! Something's wrong, isn't it! That's why he wanted us all here together, so he could tell us all at the same time."

Kate tried to calm her down. "Don't be silly Abby. What could have possibly gone wrong when we don't even have a case? The only thing I can think of that could've gone wrong is if Tony was dating two different girls while on his leave and they found out about each other. And that's not really something Gibbs would haul us in to a meeting about is it?"

Abby scowled and opened her mouth to defend Tony, but before she could say a word, the door to her lab opened and Gibbs stalked in with a daunting expression on his face. Ducky was the only one who wasn't intimidated into silence.

"Jethro? What's happened?"

Gibbs looked at each one of them before replying

"It's Tony. He's missing."

"What?!?"

"When? How?"

"Isn't he on leave?"

"Who took him?"

"Oh, no! We gotta find him Gibbs!"

"We will Abs. As to what happened, well DiNozzo hasn't actually been on leave. He was on loan to the FBI for an undercover operation." As everyone started calling out shocked questions at Gibbs at the same time, he held up both hands to halt the interrogation. "Hey, hey, HEY! If you will just LISTEN, then I will tell you."

They all ceased the questioning somewhat ashamedly.

"Thank you. Now. A couple of months ago Fornell went to Director Morrow wanting to borrow DiNozzo for an undercover assignment. Apparently there was no one available over there that he trusted to be able to successfully pull it off. He knows Tony is an expert undercover agent, and despite the fighting and dislike that gets thrown around whenever we all get together, Fornell actually does trust him. When we heard what the op entailed, Tony was eager to jump in and the Director and I both agreed to him working with Fornell."

"And what was the assignment, Jethro?"

Gibbs glared at Ducky for interrupting. "Someone was selling top-secret information to a terrorist group called The Scourge. They're fairly new, only been around for a year or so, but they're already troublesome. Tony was supposed to infiltrate them and find out who was supplying them with the information. It was thought to be someone or some ones from one of the agencies.

"Three weeks ago, Tony had discovered it was people from the FBI and was going to obtain some evidence. That was the last he was heard from. We didn't know about it because Fornell only found out himself this morning. The director of the FBI has been keeping him busy with other work and had Tony's handler contacting him instead or Fornell. Two days ago, the agent's hotel room exploded. The only person who knew where she was the director. Luckily, she wasn't there at the time. She made her way to Fornell's house this morning and told him everything. He came here to tell me and to give me this." Gibbs held up the flash disk he'd gotten from Fornell. "It's got copies of everything they have so far on the case. Fornell didn't tell anyone he was coming here. He thins that Director Peterson is one of the traitors, considering everything that has been going on.

"So now we've got to find DiNozzo and this evidence he was going after and we're already three weeks behind."

There was silence. The rest of the team was in shock as they tried to process everything they'd been told. Ducky and Kate had had to find chairs before they ended up on the floor. McGee looked lost and kept opening his mouth as if to speak but no sound came out. Palmer just stood there blinking in confusion and shock. Abby was crying.

Gibbs crossed over to her and wrapped her in a hug.

When Abby had finished crying he gave a squeeze before letting her go. McGee picked up Bert the Hippo and passed him to Abby who held him tightly, causing him to fart.

"Tony's last known whereabouts is Kansas City. Kate, McGee, go and pack a bag; we're leaving in an hour. Abby," Gibbs passed her the flash disk. "Go through everything and see if there is anything that will help us find Tony. Ducky, call all the hospitals in Kansas City and find out if Tony has been there in the past month or any John Does." He paused. "If no luck at the hospitals, do the same with the morgues. Palmer," He paused again. "Pray he doesn't end up on your table."

They were still standing there.

"Go!"

Everyone jumped and went to work on their given tasks.

Gibbs gave Abby a final hug then left to speak to Director Morrow and arrange transport to Kansas City.

------------------------

an - ta em for beta

please tell me how absolutly wonderful this is or i will cry. you don't want that on you concience do you????


	18. Hispital

Hospital

--------------------

Gibbs, Kate and McGee flew into Kansas City International Airport in the early evening. After hiring a car, they found the nearest motel, booked a couple of rooms and set up base.

Ducky's phone marathon to all the local hospitals had determined there were no Tony DiNozzos, Anthony DiNozzos or any DiNozzos admitted anywhere in the last month, nor was his undercover alias Steve LeShey. There was however a John Doe who fit Tony's description brought into Trinity Lutheran Hospital three weeks ago. The hospital refused to divulge any more information than that for some reason, even after Ducky got Gibbs on the line and let him growl at them for a while. So after checking the map, all three agents got back in the car and made their way to the hospital.

After a haring ride with Gibbs at the wheel, they marched up to the front reception.

The woman behind the desk smiled at them.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," Gibbs replied shortly. He showed her a photo of Tony. "A John Doe was admitted here three weeks ago. Can you tell us if this was him?"

The receptionist's smile slipped as she eyed the three agents with a piercing gaze, before her eyes moved to something behind them. Before they turned to see what she was looking at, she turned back to them. "I don't know if that's him, I never saw the man myself. Perhaps these gentlemen can help you."

She pointed and the trio turned around to find two large security guards standing directly behind them.

Gibbs frowned. "Excuse me?"

One of the guards spoke to the woman. "Everything alright here, Kelly?"

"These three were inquiring about our John Doe."

The two guards visibly tensed as they watched the NCIS agents with suspicion. "And what do you want with him?"

Gibbs glared at them before pulling his badge and ID. He noticed their hands moved towards their guns as he did so. He showed them his ID. "I'm NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. These are Special Agents Todd and McGee. If your John Doe is this man here," he held up the photo of Tony again. "Then he is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, part of my team."

The first guard held out his hand for the ID and studied it for a long moment before handing it to his partner. The second guard eventually gave it back to Gibbs. "Ok then. If you'll follow us please." He looked back at Kelly. "Could you call Dr Laurence and get him to meet us in the conference room? Thanks."

He strode off and the three confused agents followed with the second guard bringing up the rear. They entered a small conference room and the guards invited them to sit while they took up positions on either side of the door.

Kate couldn't stand the suspect treatment any more. "Excuse me, but just what is going on here?" She demanded indignantly.

"Sorry miss, but a couple of FBI agents also turned up looking for him. Their ID's seemed real also. They were alone with him in his room and they attempted to kill him."

There was stunned silence before...

"What!?!?!?" Gibbs choked out.

"The doctor will tell you more when he arrives."

It was another five minutes before the door opened again and a man came in and introduced himself as Dr Laurence. Gibbs likewise introduced himself and his team again. Then the doctor demanded to see their badges and IDs, studying them intently for a while before handing them back.

"So, what do you want with our John Doe?"

Gibbs passed him Tony's photo. "If that's him, he's part of my team."

"Really."

"Yes."

Laurence paused. "Have you anything to back that up?"

Gibbs eyebrow rose. "You can call our Director if you'd like."

"I would like, thank you."

Gibbs handed him a business card.

Laurence looked at the card and stood. "Thank you. I'll be back shortly."

When he came back, Laurence nodded to the guards that it was alright and they both left.

"Do you believe us now?" scowled Kate.

"Yes, I do, Agent Todd. I apologize to all of you for that being necessary."

Gibbs shook his head "No need to apologize Doctor, you were just doing what you had to to protect your patient. Am I allowed to see my agent now?"

"Unfortunately not, Agent Gibbs. The young man is no longer here."

"What? Well where the hell is he then?"

"I'll explain from the beginning, shall I?"

"Please."

"Three weeks ago, your agent was spotted drowning in the Kansas River by a young couple. The girl called 911 while her boyfriend swam out and pulled him back to shore. When they got him out they had to perform CPR on him. He was also bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds, though the freezing cold water had slowed the bleeding down enough that he hadn't bled out yet. They kept him alive until the ambulance arrived. On the way back here his heart stopped twice and he was brought back both times."

He opened a folder he had brought in with him. "We worked on him in surgery for six and a half hours. He had been shot eleven times." Kate and McGee gasped and even Gibbs blinked. "He had been shot three times in his left thigh, once in his left upper arm, twice in his right shoulder, twice in his stomach, twice in his chest, and once to his head. Six bullets were still lodged in his body. It was an extremely difficult operation. One bullet was resting against a lung, two were close to his spine, one in his spleen, which had to be removed, one in his thigh, and the bullet to his head was lodged in his skull. Each bullet required precision work to prevent more damage than had already been done; if any of them had gone wrong he could have died, become a vegetable or a quadriplegic.

"The removal of the bullets themselves was perfect, but complications still occurred during the surgery. Twice he started bleeding excessively. There was trouble stopping it. We went through seventeen units of blood during surgery and another two after surgery. He also flat-lined four times, but we were able to start his heart up again each time.

"Afterwards, he was in a coma for three days. The chances of him waking up from the coma were given at twenty-three percent. Without permanent brain damage, seventeen percent. But he woke up from the coma, without any evidence of permanent brain damage after only three days.

"He did have retrograde amnesia though." Laurence paused. "You must know that it was a miracle Tony survived the surgery at all, never mind waking up from the coma without brain damage."

McGee raised his hand. "Um, sorry, ah, what exactly do you mean by retrograde amnesia. What type is that?"

"Retrograde amnesia is when a person is unable to remember anything about themselves but is still able to function normally. They lose all personal memories but still know how to do things like tie their shoes or drive a car."

He stopped and took a breath.

"Tony was recovering well, apart from the amnesia, until a week ago. Two men bearing FBI badges came into the hospital looking for our John Doe. The reception checked their IDs and they seemed to check out, so she told them where they could find him.

"Tony was probably still asleep when they got there and there was no one else in the room. One of the men held him down while the other held a pillow over his face trying to smother him. Luckily, Tony's nurse chose that moment to enter the room. Two orderlies were in the corridor also and were able to rush in and pull the men off Tony when they heard her scream.

Dr Greenway was also nearby at the time and got there soon after wanting to know what was happening. Everybody started yelling at the same time so Nicole, Tony's nurse, ordered everyone out of the room to stop disturbing her patient. Nicole can be quite the dictator at times," He added with a small smile.

"The doctor and the orderlies left, taking the two men with them. When they were out in the corridor, a fight broke out and they got loose and escaped.

"That night Tony disappeared. The security cameras showed that he left on his own, he wasn't taken. Before he left he raided a storage room for bandages and a supply of the medication. He changed into a set of doctor's scrubs and left without anybody noticing."

There was silence after Dr Laurence finished speaking until Gibbs intelligently said, "Oh."

--------------------------------

an - I'm pretty sure retrograde amnesia is the corect one. if anyone knows otherwise please let me know & I'll fix it. otherwise, eat, drink, & be slightly hungover!!


	19. Investigation

Investigation

----------------------

To find out where Tony had been only to discover they had just missed him was a huge blow. The three agents could only sit and try to absorb and make sense of everything they'd just found out.

Gibbs pulled himself together and began ordering the others around. He sent McGee to get the tapes of the attack on Tony and Tony's leaving. Gibbs and Kate questioned Dr Laurence further then began interviewing Tony's nurse, Nicole, the two orderlies, Dr Greenway, Kelly the receptionist, who'd been working at the time, and the security guards on duty at the time of the attack.

The security tapes weren't a lot of help. They showed the FBI agents but both men wore FBI caps and kept their faces hidden. However, the interviews produced better descriptions of the men and Kelly did remember the names on their IDs; Agents Alan Grant and Peter Forbes.

Gibbs sent everything they had to Abby. He also faxed Tony's medical file to Ducky

-----------------------------

Abby was in the morgue talking to Ducky when Ducky's fax machine started beeping. Ducky continued speaking as he crossed over to the machine and collected each page as it came out. Fifteen sheets were spat out before it was finished.

He gathered them together and started browsing them as he walked back to Abby.

Ducky stopped. "Oh my."

"What is it Ducky?"

Ducky started reading more thoroughly, his face growing paler the further he read and he fell heavily into a chair.

"Ducky?" Abby was worried."

"It's, it's Anthony's medical file from the hospital at Kansas City."

Abby's eyes grew large and she was afraid to ask. Eventually she was able to whisper almost inaudibly, "What does it say?"

He explained to her everything the report said and she sank to the floor, tears forming again. "Shot eleven times? Drowned? Amnesia? Oh my god. And he survived all that? Oh, Tony!" Abby felt like her heart was breaking. "They're bringing him back here though, right? Transfer him to the hospital here? He'd be well enough to move by now, wouldn't he?"

Ducky looked at the last page. It wasn't part of the medical file, it was from Gibbs. "No my dear, I'm afraid he won't be. It appears young Anthony disappeared from the hospital a week ago."

Abby started crying in earnest.

--------------------------

Nurse Nicole had spent a lot of time looking after Tony. She visited him in her spare time; brought him little gifts to cheer him up and they spent time talking. Nicole told Gibbs that Tony had remembered the shooting and being dumped into the river. Tony had described for her the memory of being shot at by half a dozen gunmen in an old warehouse. Gibbs decided that their next move would be to find this warehouse, but Nicole then told him the police had found it two weeks ago. Her brother, Brad, was on the force and had been assigned to the case. Because she was Tony's nurse, Brad had kept her informed on what was going on.

By this time it was long past midnight, so the team went back to the motel to get some sleep. The next morning Gibbs, Kate and McGee went to the police station to and talked with Nicole's brother, Detective Bradley Dawes.

The hospital had followed procedure and notified the police that they had a shooting victim. They ran his prints but hadn't gotten a hit, since they'd been pulled when Tony started working undercover. Ballistics on the bullets showed he'd been shot by six different guns. Once Tony had woken up and told them about the warehouse, the cops went searching. It took a while, but they eventually found the right one. Shells found at the scene indicated he'd been shot at by seven different weapons. They found no useful prints and the only blood at the scene was Tony's.

Dawes had gone back to the hospital after the attack on Tony. The assailants had worn gloves so there were no prints and the descriptions given by the hospital staff had produced no results. They'd also discovered that there was no Peter Forbes in the FBI. There was an Alan Grant, but he was in San Francisco at the time and also looked nothing like either assailant.

Detective Dawes agreed to turn the case over to NCIS and gave them everything the police had, but asked them to let him know if they found anything.

The team searched all the crime scenes again but found nothing new. They found where Tony had been staying before he ended up in the hospital. The place had been ransacked. Who ever had searched the cheap rent apartment was a pro. They found no evidence of who had done it. They also couldn't tell if the intruder had found what they'd been looking for, but Gibbs had the feeling they hadn't.

The team went through every little piece of information they could find, but after a week and a half in Kansas City, they were still no closer to finding Tony.


	20. Chapter 20

It was a month and a half since they'd come back from Kansas City with nothing.

The team hadn't given up hope that Tony was still alive, but nobody had any clue about where he might have gone after he walked out of the hospital. They'd sent out BOLOs, but had gotten no hits. All they were able to do at this stage was pray Tony's memories come back and he'd return to them.

One afternoon Fornell came to see Gibbs.

"He's been found."

They all looked at him.

"What? Where?"

"Is he ok?"

"Where is he?"

"Did he get his memory back?"

"What happened?"

Gibbs glared at Kate and McGee and the questions stopped pouring from their mouths. He turned back to Fornell and raised his eyebrow.

"Four days ago. Minneapolis. Local PD picked him up."

"Let's go get him then."

"There's more."

Gibbs sat back down and waited.

"BOLOs were sent out by the FBI as well as NCIS. Soon after they were posted, someone got into them and changed them. They were changed to say that DiNozzo was a suspect in a multiple murder case. They changed the contact name and number. This was only discovered last night. The contact agent's name was changed to Peter Forbes. I tried to trace the number but it'd been disconnected. I was able to get the numbers of the calls it had made and received. There were only a few and they are all connected to Minneapolis PD.

"I got in touch with Minneapolis. They told me DiNozzo was picked up four nights ago by a couple of beat cops for vagrancy. Apparently he was sleeping in a park, which they didn't like. When they brought him in, someone recognised him from the BOLO. They locked him in an interview room and called the bogus agent. Three FBI agents showed up and took him away. I checked the names they gave the PD. They were all false IDs.

"They got him. I'm sorry."


	21. Chapter 21

Things were strained at NCIS. Everyone had liked Tony and now he was most likely dead. Gibbs was snarling and brittle with everyone. McGee barely spoke anymore, only when it was necessary. Kate was constantly snapping at people. Ducky was considering retirement. Abby was inconsolable, spending a lot of her time hiding in her lab with Bert and crying. 

A month passed.

The phone on Gibbs' desk rang. He considered not answering, but he sighed and picked it up.

"Gibbs."

"Jethro."

"Hello Tobias."

"Jethro, DiNozzo's still alive."

"What? What's happened? Where is he?"

"I don't know where he is. But I recently found out that a contract has been put out on him. I believe the contract originated from somewhere at this office. That means he must have gotten away from those who took him in Minneapolis. They wouldn't put out a contract if they'd killed or still had him."

A relieved laugh escaped Gibbs' lips.

When he hung up the phone he looked up to find McGee and Kate looking at him.

"He's alive! Tony's alive!"

--------------------------

an hope y'all still having fun here


	22. Chapter 22

Word spread quickly around the Navy Yard that Tony was still alive and the mood of the whole building skyrocketed. When Gibbs went down to her lab to tell her the good news, Abby became extra-hyper-bouncy and threw herself at Gibbs with a joyous shriek. Even Director Morrow was glimpsed adding in a little skip to his step in a corridor when he thought nobody was looking. 

Seven weeks went by without any more word, but sometimes no news is good news, and they still held hope that Tony would eventually be found.

Then Gibbs got a call from Stan Burley.

"Gibbs."

"Gibbs. It's Stan Burley. I heard you were missing an agent?"

"Yeah Stan. Why? You know something?"

"Oh yeah, boss, I do. I'm on vacation at the moment, visiting my cousin in Cleveland. Anyway, Erin and I were having lunch at the beach today. I heard some kids shouting and I turned around to look, as you do. Not far off, maybe around forty/fifty yards away, I saw Tony playing chasey with this teenage girl and a bunch of kids. I was in shock for a minute and before could go after him, they'd all run off down the boardwalk and were lost in the crowds. We ran after them but couldn't find them."

"We'll be on the next flight. Can you pick us up from the airport?"

"Yeah, no problem boss. Call me when you've got the flight details."

"Will do." Gibbs hung up and looked over at McGee and Kate.

"Pack your bags. DiNozzo's been spotted in Cleveland. McGee, make travel arrangements. Stan Burley will be picking us up at the airport."

Leaving his agents scrambling, Gibbs went down to the labs to tell Abby. Abby started jumping around with excitement and ordered Gibbs not to come back without Tony. When he went down to the morgue, Ducky and Palmer were almost as bad as Abby. When he went to inform Director Morrow, with a mock glare, Tom's only words were: "Well, what are you waiting for? Go bring our boy back."

With a smirk, Gibbs left to do just that.

Stan met them at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport and drove them to Erin's house. His cousin had insisted that they stay with her instead of a hotel. After all, she had enough room.

Once everyone had settled in, Gibbs, Kate and McGee got together with Stan to discuss what their next move would be. Erin brought them all drinks and included herself in the conversation.

"I recognised the girl that was with Tony and the kids." They all looked at her. "I have a friend who runs a homeless shelter down that way. I sometimes help out there. This girl stays there a couple of times a week. She's called Jay or Blue Jay because of the blue streaks in her hair. Don't know what her real name is.

"The rest of the kids looked homeless as well, as did your boy Tony. All thin and scrawny, their clothes tattered and Tony's weren't any better. I think your agent is living on the streets, I'm afraid."

Gibbs nodded, he wasn't that surprised. Kate just sighed.

"Ok then," Gibbs said. "We'll start at your friend's shelter, see if he's stayed there. See if we can find this girl Blue Jay. Erin, could you get a list of other homeless shelters in this city. We'll split them up. Erin, you're with me, McGee, you're with Kate. Stan, wander around the city, start where you last saw Tony. See if you can spot him; show his picture to people, maybe we'll get something. Keep an eye out for places homeless people might hang out."

"OK."

"Right."

On it, boss."

When Gibbs and Erin arrived at the shelter, they found her friend, Tanya, playing a game of chess with an old homeless man.

"Hey Tanya, could we talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure Erin. I'll be back in a minute to kick your ass Bill. Don't you mess with my pieces, ya hear!"

They moved to Tanya's office.

"Tanya, This is NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. Gibbs, this is Tanya McKay."

"Agent Gibbs."

"Ms McKay."

"So, what can I do for you, Agent Gibbs?"

"I'm missing one of my agents. He disappeared a few months ago and we believe he has amnesia. He was spotted earlier today in the area, in the company of some street kids, so we're asking around the shelters if anyone has seen him." He passed over a picture of Tony.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't seen him before, sorry. Some of my people here might recognise him though. We can go and ask them."

"Tanya, what about Blue Jay. I saw her with him. Do you know where we could find her?"

"Haven't seen Jay in a few days. She might be in tonight, she might not. Don't know where she hangs out. Not many of them tell us that kind of info. One of the others might know though. Come on, let's go ask around."

They found out that Blue Jay didn't have a regular place she hung out; she stayed all over the place. Only one of Tanya's staff recognized Tony.

"Oh yeah, I know him. I volunteer at another soup kitchen, a place called The Corner. He comes in there sometimes, usually with a bunch of kids. Makes sure they eat. I think the kids call him Shadow Man or something. Never heard any other name."

They got the address of The Corner from Becky then went to the next shelter.

The second shelter was a bust. No one recognized Tony or the girl. At the third shelter, Blue Jay made an appearance. Erin approached her.

"Hi. Blue Jay?"

"Uh, yeah. Do I know you?"

"I'm Erin. I sometimes help out at Tanya's place."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Who's he?"

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS."

Blue Jay looked at Gibbs with suspicion. "Yeah? And what's NCIS?"

"Navel Criminal Investigation Service."

"Navy cop. Right." She still didn't trust this man.

"Well, yeah. Basically."

"So what do you want?"

"Well, I'm looking for a friend of mine. He went missing a while ago but he was recently seen in this area." Gibbs showed her the photo of Tony.

"Nope. Never seen him before." No way was Jay gonna nark on the guy who'd saved her from being gang banged, then taught her ways to defend herself.

Gibbs looked sceptical and Erin had a 'yeah, right' expression on her face. "Um, Jay, I saw you earlier today near the beach with him and some other kids."

The look on Jay's face hardened. "Sorry. Got nothin' to say. Gotta go now." With that, she escaped from the room before either of them could stop her. The followed her out of the shelter but quickly lost her. It was easy really. All the kids had played escape and evade with Shadow Man. Good practice for getting away from bad men or the cops. Now she had to find Shadow and tell him there were people looking for him. He wasn't gonna like that. Shadow had told her all about how he was being hunted. Jay wasn't gonna let those assholes get him.

Gibbs and Erin soon stopped looking for Blue Jay. It was obvious they weren't going to find her.

They visited the rest of the shelters on the list. The Corner wasn't open; it only served lunch. None of the shelters had seen Tony, and the ones that knew Blue Jay hadn't seen her in a while.

Agreeing to come back to The Corner tomorrow, they headed back to Erin's place. They found McGee and Kate already back and Stan came in not much later. Sitting down, Gibbs told them what had happened with Blue Jay.

"What about you guys? What did you find?"

"Well," McGee spoke up. "Not much. All the shelters were basically the same. No one knew Tony and Blue Jay hasn't been in anything from a week to a month. Although there was one old homeless guy who said he knew Tony. Didn't know where he slept at night or hung out though. He said he'd tell him we were looking for him."

"What about you Stan?"

"I got nowhere. Most people I tried to talk to either refused to talk or just ran away. The few that would talk said they'd never seen Tony. But I got the feeling that if they did know him, they wouldn't tell me anyway. Not big with the trust, homeless people."

Gibbs sighed. "Yeah. I got that feeling too. Looks like we just might have to wander around and see if we can find him ourselves. Stan, Erin and I can do that tomorrow. Kate, McGee, tomorrow you two go to all the local PDs see if they recognize him or have picked him up anytime. For now, it's late. Not much we can do. Let's get some sleep."

The next few days they spent scouring the city for Tony. None of the street kids and only a few of the adults would give them straight answers. A few of the local cops had seen him around, but none of the leads they were given resulted in finding Tony. Blue Jay seemed to have gone to ground also.

On the third day of hunting though, they heard that Tony had skipped town the day after they arrived in Cleveland. It seemed that people had warned him that they were looking for him and he had fled.

They spent another day and a half searching and heard the same rumours before they had no choice but to admit defeat and go home disappointed.

--------------------

an - oooooooooooh. long one


	23. Chapter 23

It had been seven months since they'd discovered Tony was missing; two months since the last sighting in Cleveland. Morale at NCIS was low. Everyone was missing Tony.

Abby was depressed. She hadn't been at all happy with Gibbs since he'd disobeyed her orders and come back from Cleveland without Tony. There were no leads anywhere that anyone could find about where he'd gone. But, looking on the bright side, it seemed the bad guys were still looking for him too, so that meant they hadn't found him either.

But still, she wanted her Tony-friend back.

Abby was staying at Tony's place tonight. He owned the small flat, so he hadn't lost it due to not paying his rent for the past seven months. She stayed there whenever she missed Tony more than usual or was just miserable. She was watching a movie from his collection; Casablanca. The movie was about three quarters through and she'd eaten all the popcorn and most of a bag of m&m's when her mobile rang.

Pausing the movie, she glanced at the caller ID, not recognizing it, before answering.

"Hey, you've got me, so you know you want me."

There was a pause, before an uncertain voice answered her.

"Abby?"

-----------------

I discovered a bunyip living in my back yard!!


	24. Chapter 24

"Hey, you've got me, so you know you want me."

There was a pause, before an uncertain voice answered her.

"Abby?"

_Who? Wait. I know that voice._

For a moment she couldn't breathe.

"Tony?" She could only let out a whisper. "Tony is that you?"

"Uh..." _Tony. Is that my name? It sounds like it could fit_. "Um... I, um, I, I don't know."

"You don't know?"_It sure sounds like Tony. But he sounds so lost._

"Um, sorry, I, um."_Dammit. This is so hard._ He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Look, um, are you Abby? 'Cause, "cause I'm looking for a girl named Abby. I think she's a goth."

"Yeah, yeah that's me. I'm Abby, and I am a Goth." _That's right, amnesia, so he probably wouldn't know. Wait, he called my number and asked for me. That means he's starting to remember, right?_ "And you do sound like my friend Tony who's been missing for seven or eight months."

"Um, ok." _Crap, what the hell do I say now?_ "Well, I guess that how long I haven't been able to remember anything."

"Yeah, the hospital in Kansas City said you had amnesia. Well, your name is Tony DiNozzo."

"Tony DiNozzo, huh."

"Yup. And I'm guessing since you called me you're remembering things?" _Please, please, please let him remember_.

"Ah, yeah, well, I actually kinda remembered you about four or five weeks ago, well, I, I didn't remember who you were or anything, I just had a memory of you and me sitting on a couch watching a movie, and I knew that we were friends, but, but I didn't know who you were besides that, but I wanted to know 'cause, like, you seemed pretty interesting, and I was really bummed that I couldn't remember anything else 'cause that was the first memory I'd gotten back and oh, crap, I need to slow down and take a breath now."

Abby laughed. "Yeah, probably a good idea. So you remembered me, but not who I was?"

"Yeah. And then earlier today I had a memory of calling you because I'd had a crappy day. And I remembered your name and the number I called, so I called it and you answered and you answered the same way that I remembered."

"Cool. Well, my name's Abby Scuito and you're Tony DiNozzo. We've been really good friends for three and a half years now."

"Really? Cool."

"We both work at NCIS. I'm the forensic scientist and you're one of the best field agents."

"Um. NCIS, what's that? I mean it, it sounds familiar, but I, I can't..."

"That's ok. NCIS stands for Naval Criminal Investigation Service."

"Oh."

"Uh huh. You're also a really great undercover agent. That's what happened when you disappeared. You went undercover with a terrorist organization."

"Oh." Well, that explained why people kept trying to kill him.

"Do you remember anyone else?"

"Um, no. Well, not anyone good anyway."

"Ok. Does the name Gibbs mean anything? Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

"Hmmm… Someone hitting me, I think."

"Abby snickered. "Yeah. Gibbs is the boss, the Senior Agent. You're his Senior Field Agent on the team. Gibbs sometimes smacks you upside you head when he thinks you've done something wrong or silly."

"Oh."

"What about Kate, Caitlin Todd?"

"Uh, no, that name means nothing, sorry."

"It's alright. She's on your team. As well as Timothy McGee. What about him?"

"Um, no, sorry."

"Ducky? Dr Donald Mallard?

"No... wait. An old guy? English or Scottish or something?"

"Yup! Scottish actually. He's our ME."

"Cool. What about family?"

"Well, you father is Antonio DiNozzo, but, well, you two don't really along. Your mom, um, she's, uh, she died, years ago."

There was a long pause.

"So where's home then?"

"D.C. Where are you?"

"I'm in New Orleans."

"Oh! Wow, That's a long way from Cleveland."

"What!?!? How did you know..."

"Oh, right. Another friend, Stan Burley, saw you there two months ago when he was on vacation. Gibbs and the others went there to find you, but they didn't have any luck. They heard you left the next day.."

"Um, yeah. I heard someone was looking for me so I left. There's a lot of people trying to kill me."

"Yeah, we know."

Another long pause.

"Can we come get you?"

"Uh, oh, um, I don't know. I mean. I don't really know who I can trust. Well, I think I can trust you. But any one else. I just. Sigh."

"Well, what about Ducky? You remembered what he looked like, right? Do you think you'd be able to trust him?"

He thought for a bit. "Maybe, I guess."

"So if me and Ducky came, what about Gibbs?"

"I don't know."

"You can trust him. Gibbs is a great guy. He's an ex-Marine and you once told me he was more of a dad to you than your real one."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. And you said that he always had your six no matter what."

"Oh. Um. Well, alright then... But just you three. No one else."

"Can do. We can take the next flight or wait 'til morning."

"Tomorrow would be better. Probably be safer during the day than at night."

"Ok. When and where do you want to meet?"

"Um. How about lunch time. At the city centre square. I'll find you."

"Sure, we'll meet you there."

"Great. Um. I've got to go. My money's about to run out."

"Ok. See you tomorrow Tony. You're gonna get lots of hugs and kisses!"

"Right. Okay. Well, bye then."

They both hung up their phones; one nervous and slightly bewildered, the other bouncing around with joy.

--------------------------------

an - ta em 4 beta

so... love? hate? oh. that's right. kick my ego. _limp limp _


	25. Chapter 25

Abby stared at the phone for a few minutes before remembering that she had to dial the damn thing if she wanted to talk to someone. The shock and excitement of actually talking to Tony had fitzed her brain there for a bit. She started to punch in Gibbs' number then stopped. She remembered what Tony has mentioned, that people kept showing up trying to kill him. She also recalled there were really bad men in the FBI after him. 

What if the bad FBI guys had bugged Gibbs and the rest in case Tony contacted them? That meant she couldn't call Gibbs about this. She'd have to go see him. Hopefully they hadn't bugged her mobile, but it was too late for that now anyway.

What to do? Right. First, Gibbs. Then we'll see.

Grabbing her keys, Abby rushed out the door and drove over to Gibbs' house, breaking a few road rules in her haste to get there.

She banged on the front entrance before opening the never-locked door and flew down to the basement where she knew he'd be working on his boat. "Gibbs! Gibbs!"

Gibbs looked up from his sanding with a concerned expression. "Abby? What's wrong?"

She glanced around wondering if there were any bugs down here. "I need you to come with me."

"Abby, what...?"

"Pleeeease?" She gave him her most devastating puppy-dog look. "It's really important Gibbs."

"Ok, but..."

"Great! Come on." She turned and led him back upstairs, outside and started to walk down the street. Gibbs followed after her, confused and getting worried.

"Abs, what's going on?"

She turned an excited face towards him. "Gibbs! It's Tony! He called me. Tony called me!"

Gibbs stopped and stared at her, mouth hanging open in shock. "What?!?!? Tony?"

"Yeah!" Bouncing slightly, Abby recited, almost verbatim, the conversation she's had with their missing friend. Then she explained her reasoning for telling him this outside in the chilly evening instead of the warm basement.

"Good job, Abs. Come on, we'll go visit Ducky."

By the next morning, they were ready. After they had gone to see Ducky, Gibbs went to the director's home to let him know what was going on. He promised to fill in the rest of the team the next day. Abby went back to Tony's place to pick up photos and other small thing that would be good for convincing him, then went and collected more things from her apartment. Ducky gathered similar items from his house. Gibbs also collected some photos he had, plus Tony badge and ID.

Early the next morning they were on a plane bound for New Orleans.


	26. Chapter 26

Abby's coat started ringing.

At first she had no idea what it was or that it was in fact coming from her, as it wasn't her phone's usual ring tone. Abby looked around, as you do, to see whose phone was ringing and found Gibbs and Ducky staring at her.

They'd been waiting around the city center square for about forty minutes already, keeping an eye out for Tony. It was just after twelve and Abby was wishing Tony had given a more accurate time than 'lunchtime.' They had yet to spot him and 'lunchtime' could mean anytime in the next few hours. Although, with the crowd that was building up it would be hard to find him anyway. Abby had already been knocked down by a couple of kids running around.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, you going to answer that?"

Abby looked at him blankly for a second. "Huh? Oh! That's coming from me." She put her hand into the ringing pocket and pulled out a phone in confusion, "That's not my phone."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

He hung up the phone in a daze.

_Tony. My name is Tony. And I just talked to Abby, who knows who I am._

He was shaking so much he had to go sit down. It took a while for his brain to start working again.

He thought about the names she had given him. There was Anthony DiNozzo, him; Abby Scuito; Leroy Jethro Gibbs; Caitlyn Todd; Timothy McGee; Dr Donald Mallard, who was Scottish. NCIS in DC.

But if he was a Navy cop why was the FBI after him? Was he really a bad guy? No, they'd be trying to arrest him not kill him. So, they either weren't really FBI or they were rogue. If they were after him, a Navy cop, NCIS, that meant he was probably investigating something, Abby had said something about being undercover, and they wanted him dead because of what he found out. And for them to still be after him, even after all these months, it must be something really big. If that was so, were they after the rest of his team too? Somehow he didn't think so, but he had no idea why not or what to think of that.

He needed more information.

Finding an all-night Internet cafe, he searched for everything he could find on all the names Abby had supplied him with. Pictures he found did indeed match up with himself and him memory of Abby. He found that Dr Mallard was Scottish and had been a Doctor for over forty years. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was an ex-Marine with so many commendations and medals it made his head spin. Caitlyn Todd used to be Secret Service. Timothy McGee was a MIT graduate and both McGee and Abby apparently had a vast presence on the 'net, if MySpace and Facebook, as well as blogs and gaming sites were any indication.

As for himself, he really had been a cop and had played basketball for Ohio State until he ended up with a busted knee. His mom was dead and his dad lived in Long Island and was very, very rich.

He wasn't able to find anything on who wanted him dead or why, although he did manage to find a bounty hunter message board that mentioned him, but couldn't get any details from it.

Now what?

He paid for his time on the computer with what was left of his money then left, wondering what to do next.

There was something bugging him. What... what... bugging. Damn. If they were rogue FBI it could be possible they were keeping surveillance on friends and family and team in case he contacted them. Hell, they might even be able to do it even if they weren't FBI. So that meant Abby's phone might be bugged and if it was then they now knew he was in New Orleans and would be watching for him tomorrow when he went to meet Abby. Damn. And he couldn't call her back to tell her because then they'd know that he knew and they'd be watching for him watching for them and they'd be even harder to spot.

Okay. Let's see.

He headed towards the club district where there were still plenty of people. Meandering through the crowds, he came out the other side two mobile phones and a stack of wallets later. After finding a hiding spot he wiped the phones' memories and took out the sim cards. He went through the wallets and collected over five hundred dollars. Wiping his prints from the wallets, he threw them into a plastic bag to get rid of later and left to find an all night supermarket to buy a couple of new prepaid sim cards with credit. That done, he programmed the new numbers into both phones and settled down for the night.

The next morning he found a concealed position where he could watch the city center and the surrounding buildings. By the time Abby showed up, along with two men he recognized from his research last night as Donald Mallard and Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he had discovered three people watching from the ground and and two from potential sniper positions. There were two more who had followed Abby to the square.

After the three of them had been there a while he gave a signal to some kids whose help he had obtained in exchange for the wallets and fifty dollars each. The two kids started chasing each other around and managed to knock into Abby, spilling all of them to the ground. As they helped her up, apologizing all the while, one of them slipped one of the phones unobtrusively into Abby's pocket before running off.

After waiting about ten minutes he called the new number.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

a/n ta em for the beta


	27. Chapter 27

Abby shrugged and answered the phone. 

"Um. Hello?"

"Abby. Hey, it's… it's Tony. Don't react or look around or anything. You're being watched."

"What? Watched? Crap. Bad guys?"

"Yeah. There are five on the ground and two in sniper positions that I can see. Now, they might be here for some other reason, but I prefer to be paranoid and stay alive."

"Yeah. Definitely agree there."

"Anyway, after I called last night I remembered some of the people after me are FBI or pretending to be FBI and so they might have your phones tapped in case I call or something. So I got hold of these phones, they should be clean, so that I could let you know what's going on. Those kids earlier put it in your pocket."

"Right, yeah. Hold on. I'll tell the others what's going on."

"Ok."

Abby turned to Gibbs and Ducky. "It's Tony. Last night he thought our phones might be bugged so he got new ones. Those kids that bumped into me put it in my pocket. And he might be right because he says there are at least seven people watching us, two from sniper positions."

"Shit."

"Oh dear."

She put the phone back to her ear. "So what do you want to do, Tony?"

"Well, first I was hoping you could tell me what's going on. You know, who these people are and why they want me dead, those sorts of things. You said last night I was undercover."

"That's right." So Abby proceeded to tell Tony everything she knew, which turned out to be quite a lot. There was silence after she had finished.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, ah, wow."

"I know."

"So, bad guys at the FBI. Damn. This is some crazy shit, Abby. I'm not sure what to do next. I mean, I can't go back with you guys; they're watching you. They'll probably take a shot the moment they see me."

She sniffed, trying not to start crying.

"Ok. Here's what I need you guys to do. When you hang up pretend it was someone else on the phone and keep waiting a few more hours for me to show up. I won't, but act like you're looking for me anyway. Then spend a few days searching for me in New Orleans like you did in Cleveland. You won't find me, but that doesn't matter. Hopefully the people watching won't realize we all know they're there. If they know that we know they're watching, they'll just be that much harder and dangerous to get around in the future. After a few days go back home."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll contact you after you go back to DC. Not sure when, but it won't be too long. I should have figured what to do by then."

Abby huffed impatiently. "Fine. But you stay safe, you hear me. Don't you dare get yourself killed. I'll be really mad at you if you do. We'll all be mad if you do. We all love you, Tony. And you'd better call, buster."

"I will. Don't let this phone out of your sight or they'll bug it too. And I know my number's on that phone but don't call me at all while you're in New Orleans. If you really have to in DC at least make sure you're not at home. Do it at the park walking or something where you can see people watching you. But I probably won't keep this phone for long anyway. Don't know if they can find a way to trace or bug them despite taking precautions."

"Yeah, they might be able to."

"Ok. I should go then. Stay safe."

"You too."

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a/n ta super em for beta again

CJ Thale - its around halfway through season 2  



	28. Chapter 28

After hanging up with Abby, he quickly exited the area. Holing up in a very obscure, hard to reach nook far, far away from the city centre, he started to make plans. 

Up until now, there had been no real planning done on his part – unless you count 'don't get killed.' He found that now he was sitting down and actually considering his next moves and objectives, entirely new ideas were popping into his head that he had never even considered before. Ideas he thought might be worthy of an experienced undercover agent. He didn't know whether it was because he was now doing something different or if talking to Abby had unlocked part of his previous self, but he was grateful either way. He almost……

No. Tony. His name was Tony. He had to start thinking of himself like that now. He, Tony, almost felt like a new person with all these new thoughts running around his head.

But first things first; he, Tony, needed to get out of New Orleans. He needed to go to DC now. He would tell a few others he was headed to Miami, hopefully throw a few false leads.

Then Tony started thinking of disguises and new identities. Plans were made to go shopping for different clothes and stage makeup to change his features and, oh, different colour contact lenses and lots more.

The only way to stop these people from chasing him was if he was dead or if they were caught. Since he didn't really fancy option one, that meant going with the second choice. To do that, they needed the evidence that Tony had acquired. Since he was the only one who knew where the evidence was, or used to know, the only way they could find that evidence was if he got his memory back.

That was his first goal; hence going to DC.

Hopefully he'd be able to get together with Abby secretly, or at least talk with her on the phone, and have her help him to get to know who he was. He also planned on getting copies of everything they had on the case from her and hopefully get in touch with this Agent Rudderford to try and jog his memory about the case.

He was pretty sure it would all end up with him having to go back to Kansas City.


End file.
